


Captain-Save-A-Ho

by Athelise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Ben Solo is intrigued, College Student Rey (Star Wars), Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dark Reylo, F/F, F/M, Fellatio, First Order, Foot Fetish, Gentlemen's Club, Hux needs a hug, Implied Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, M/M, Marine Veteran Ben Solo, Maz Kanata is the best, Mechanic Rey, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Obsession, Officer Ben Solo, One-sided Kylux, Patrol officer, Poe is the best, Protective Ben Solo, Public Sex, Rey is an Escort, Sensei Luke, Sexworker Rey, Soft Ben Solo, Strap-Ons, Stripper!AU, Stripper!Rey, Takodana, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, don't forget the lube!, might get dark, safe sex, support system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-07 03:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20302882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athelise/pseuds/Athelise
Summary: Officer Ben Solo is called out to the Takodana Suites in response to a tip that an escort lives in residence. What he finds there leads him to investigate Rey, young British woman who moonlights as an exotic dancer and other legally dubious activities, whose gorgeous legs he can't get his mind off of.





	1. Make a Call

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As the author I in no way endorse prostitution as it is an illegal activity. In most states it is classified as a misdemeanor which results in jail time, fines, and a mark on one's record. 
> 
> This piece is a statement, however, in distinguishing those who willingly enter the Industry as legal adults from those victims of sex trafficking and slavery. 
> 
> People who participate in sex work are not, in fact, broken. Yes, some sexworkers are victims of past or current abuse, but they, like Rey in this story, find empowerment and financial independence and satisfaction in their work. 
> 
> A sexworker classifies as anyone who engages in sexually arousing behavior for profit, including phone sex operators, cam models, dominatrixes, strippers and other exotic dancers, Sugar Babies, and full-contact escorts.  
There is no shame in being a sexworker.
> 
> Rey is of-age when she engages in all sexual acts throughout this story, and practices safe sex, vets clients, gets frequent health screenings, and learns self-defense.
> 
> Enough of my rant! I hope you all enjoy my little trainwreck! Sinning is Winning

Officer Ben Solo had better things to do at 12:34 am on a Friday. There were drunk drivers to pull over, drug rings to bust, and actual _ trafficked victims _to rescue. But no, the chief was sending him to investigate and arrest some woman accused of escorting out of the Takodana Extended Stay Suites. 

Ben had to bite his cheek to keep from snapping at Hux over the radio that hunting down non-violent sexworkers was a waste of time. But still, if not him, someone else would be sent there to deal with the “public threat.” He raked his hand through his hair and got out of his Ford Explorer, and he cringed at the gaudy police logo emblazoned on the side it. But his badge and gun were no less inconspicuous, and knew there was nothing he could do about it; it was part of the job. 

He scanned the motel parking lot and saw there were too many cars to bother guessing which one may have been the suspect’s. There was a tingle at the back of his head, then, and he glanced up at the second story looking for 217, where the caller said the woman, I.D.’d only as Rey, was supposed to be. But there wasn’t any movement that he could see, only a dim light that could have been the bathroom light or a lamp from between the curtains. 

He walked as slowly as he dared, genuinely hoping the woman saw the blue and red lights from her window. He hoped she was sneaking out some side exit now, and thought to bribe the front desk to erase her as best they could. Maybe she was was scrambling to pack now, or hide the condoms and cash that would incriminate her and force him to arrest her for a misdemeanor. 

Two things washed over him as opened the door; the surprisingly excellent AC system and the bright _ ding _ of a bell _ . _ The night desk attendant sat up straight when he caught sight of Ben. 

He was a handsome olive-skinned man with dark lush curls falling in a tumble across his forehead. His eye immediately fell on Ben’s badge and gun, and Ben detected a flash of hostility before the desk attendant smoothed his features. Ben could see only one hand on the counter, and his own hand instinctively moved towards his firearm.

“Evening, Officer...” the man began, and Ben saw the pin on his dark shirt that read _Poe. _“Solo,” Ben grunted, and Poe looked mildly impressed as he nodded. 

“Yes, I can see you are. Don’t cops usually ride in pairs?”

Ben felt his ears heat up and he hoped to _ God _this woman was long gone by the time he got to her room. “That’s a stereotype.”

Poe laughed, “Yeah, there’s quite a few of those. For cops, I mean. Now, what can I do for you, Officer _ Solo?” _ He obviously did _ not _want to help in any way, but Ben knew his type; this Poe guy likely knew everything that went on in this little, and was buying time for any number of guests to get the fuck out before Ben put his booted foot through the doors. 

Ben decided he had given the woman enough time. If she wasn’t gone by then after seeing the lights and Ben’s uniform, she was an idiot. He kept an ear cocked towards the parking lot, in case any engines started up, and said, “I’m looking for a woman.”

Poe sighed dramatically and slumped back in his chair. Away from the computer, and therefore away from accessing anyone’s information. “Aren’t we all, buddy... Well, I’m not really picky, I think men are just as gorgeous. _ You _ are quite handsome yourself, Officer Solo, if I may say so. May I say so? Physique of a _ god.” _Poe kissed his fingers, and grinned, and Ben was sure his cheeks were pink with mortification. 

Ben hissed through his teeth, “It’s a free country. But I got a call from a man saying an escort was here. I need the name, the _ real _name, of the person in room 217.”

Poe pursed his lips. “Got a call? Not from a guy named Plutt, right?”

Plutt _ was _ the name of the caller, he kept saying as much, according to Hux, but Ben made no indication that Poe was right. Nevertheless, the night desk attendant went on, “That guy is some schizophrenic druggie who sees any girl alone and tries to proposition them. I’ve made a few calls to the cops myself to get him off the property, but he keeps coming back...”

Ben was utterly certain, then, that Poe was familiar with the hooker. Maybe they had a deal worked out, such as a cut of her profits, or even sexual favors, in exchange for protection. Maybe the hand under the desk that Ben couldn’t see was typing away on a cell phone, notifying her. Ben was fast losing his patience. “Show me the information on room 217.”

“Show me a warrant,” Poe shot back easily, “before I pull up any confidential information on our guests.” Real intelligence sparked in those dark eyes, and Ben narrowed his own. He moved closer to the desk until his shadow fell over Poe, and Ben could smell Poe’s heady cologne. 

Ben knew he was taller and outweighed Poe by at least 30 pounds, and he had the law on his side. He could see little cracks in the veneer Poe put up, and Ben pushed on them.

He said lowly, “If you don’t, I will go up to that room and pull her by her fucking hair into my cruiser, and I will bring you with us for interfering with a police investigation. I can take whatever I want. But if you show me her info I’ll leave you be, and won’t hurt her unless she resists.” Ben had no desire to abuse his power as an officer, unlike Hux, but he needed to be taken seriously. 

There was an infinitesimal wince in Poe’s face, and Ben knew he had won. Maybe the two were friends. Poe was a charming individual, annoyances aside, who obviously cared about his friends. Maybe this woman was decent. Maybe she just wanted to pay rent and buy groceries or pay off student loans. Ben felt a stab of conflict even as he didn’t let up his gaze, and Poe sighed heavily. He rolled himself closer to his computer and began to type, with both hands, with agonizing slowness. Ben felt a vein in his forehead start to throb.

There was a bang overhead and a feminine yelp, followed by a man’s bellow that Ben immediately recognized as extremely hostile.

Ben jerked his head upwards, and in his periphery he saw the room directly next to the desk was room 116. That meant right above them was 216, and therefore room 217. Poe and Ben exchanged a glance before Ben ran for the exit, and made for the stairs on the outside of the Suites.

He took them two at a time, and heard Poe running after him. Whether to stop him or assist him, Ben didn’t know, and didn’t care. He rounded the corner on the stairs and saw other people had flipped the lights on in their rooms at the commotion, and a few peeked their heads out their doors. 

_ Fucking rubberneckers, _Ben thought as he ordered them back into their rooms as he strode towards the ajar door of 217 where the feminine voice was warring with the man’s yelling. Poe was behind him urging everybody to stay calm. 

Ben drew his weapon and kicked the door wider, yelling, “Police! Freeze!”

A blob of a man in a leather jacket and wife-beater jerked around, and Ben could tell instantly that he was high, and could smell the whiskey leaking from his pores even from where Ben stood. In the man’s hand he gripped a girl’s, no, a young woman’s, Ben corrected himself, wrist. 

He did a double-take at the woman, _ her name is Rey, _ his mind supplied, the so-called escort. She was breathtaking. A messy bun was shaking loose behind her head, and Ben could see her eyelashes were a mile long, and beneath them were hazel eyes wide with panic and increasing relief. She was makeup free as far as he could tell, and she wasn’t dressed like a hooker. She wore baggy grey sweater hung to her mid-thigh over soft white shorts that peeked _ just _below the hem. Her legs were long, tanned, and her calves were simply mouth-watering. Her feet were bare and perfect.

Ben snapped his attention back to the blob, who was now babbling and shaking her wrist. “Officer! About damn time! This whore took my money and stole my car!”

“That’s Plutt!” Poe snarled, and Ben ordered him to shut up. A flash glance around the room yielded no condoms or costumes or cash, and Ben made a snap decision.

“Plutt, right? You’re under arrest for public intoxication and breaking and entering. Let the lady go.”

The _ lady _wasted no time flinging her arm from Plutt’s grip while he gaped like a fish at the turn of events. “Bastard!” she snapped at him, and Ben could hear her British accent. It was mind-numbingly attractive. 

Soon Ben was shoving Plutt’s head into the Ford Explorer, for once glad of the austentatious size of the vehicle. He radioed in that he didn’t find any escorts but was taking in a disorderly addict asshole. 

Officer Ben looked back up towards 217 and saw Poe holding the woman, Rey, around the shoulders closely, and another guest in a bathrobe patting her on the back. His eye caught Rey's eye and she blushed prettily. 

Ben saluted Rey, feeling something like a decent person, and climbed into his vehicle before peeling away.

* * *

Rey sat heavily at the foot of her bed and accepted her work bag back from Maz. The elderly woman gave her one last gentle pat on the cheek before she retreated and closed the door behind herself. Rey turned back to Poe, who stood by her bed looking more rattled than she’d ever seen him.

“You good?” he asked, and Rey could only nod in reply. Her heart was in her throat, and her stomach somewhere in her knees. But she wasn’t arrested, and Plutt hadn’t had the chance to hurt her, so she was alright, all things considered. _ But the cop knows who I am, now. _

Poe tried again, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza…”

Rey shook her head. Poe sat beside her. A beat passed before he said quietly, “That was close,” and Rey nodded again. He continued. “We’re lucky that cop was decent. I busted his chops a little too hard, and I…I almost caved, Rey.” 

Poe’s admission stung, but Rey appreciated his honesty and genuine remorse more than anything. She cleared her throat. “He was pretty intense,” Rey agreed, recalling the cop’s massive frame and even more massive firearm. _ Bloody Americans and their guns… _Rey shook off the thought of that gun turning on her, and remembered how his eyes had softened as he took her in. He also hadn’t bothered interrogating her---he’d been too busy wrangling Plutt’s bloody arse.

Rey was grateful, endlessly grateful, for her girl-next-door facade that protected her from the cop’s suspicion. It was what drew in most of her clients, generally good ones with a Daddy kink, and helped her rates stay relatively high. That and her accent. Rey hoped that the cop hadn’t noticed it too much; Rey wasn’t keen on being deported back to England… She took a shuddering breath and bent over her knees, clutching her bag of condoms and lube and frilly skirts. Poe rubbed her back soothingly. 

“Get some rest. Maybe hold off on taking clients here for a while.” Poe’s advice met her ears, and she was squeezing back tears as she nodded. She sniffed, and let Poe hold her as she fell apart. 

* * *

Ben Solo ran over all the information he could remember about this Rey while Plutt was processed_. _As he hadn’t bothered to collect her last name he was unable to run a search on her in the database, but based on the facts she was (_blatantly attractive) _in her early 20′s, a likely British immigrant or else a military brat, odds were she didn’t have a record. She was low on funds, but not destitute, living out of a cheap hotel. Maybe she went to school, if those books were anything to go by. 

She’d made friends with the staff and other guests of the hotel. She was friendly, too friendly, if she had simply opened the door without checking who was there first. 

Plutt mentioned a stolen car and cash, but Plutt was a mechanic when he wasn’t high as a fucking cloud, and trafficked in stolen vehicles. His record went back years. It _was_ possible that Rey had run with one of his cars and just hadn’t been caught. The number of vehicles she could have liberated from Plutt was too daunting for Ben at 2 am, and he didn’t fancy going back across town to scope out the lot again to catalogue all the guests' cars and looks for matches. 

Ben rubbed his eyes. Behind them came the memory of her gorgeous legs and stunning eyes. He threw his head back. She very well could have been an escort, he admitted to himself. She was certainly beautiful enough. And with the obvious support she had, it was very possible that she had done as he’d hoped and hidden anything incriminating while _ Poe _bought her time. 

Again he wondered if Poe and Rey were fucking.

He was also willing to bet whatever her rates were that if he staked out the motel within the next few days he would catch men going into that room, stay for an hour (_or less, she was so damn hot he bet no one lasted long with her) _and leave with their wallets considerably lighter. 

He wasn’t sure what bothered him more: the idea of strange men putting their grubby hands all over that pretty British girl, or him marching up those steps and busting someone who was just trying to make a living and not hurting anyone. _ The opposite of hurting, really. Unless she caters to the more...interesting tastes... _

A throb of something primal worked through him. He wanted to see her again, to see if she was as pretty as he remembered her being. He wanted to _ know _ her. Curiosity served him well as a cop, and he was certain a promotion to detective was coming his way soon. _ That is, _ Ben thought ruefully to himself, _ I don’t get caught with investiggating a sexworker without arresting her..._

Ben Solo had to be careful. Very careful.


	2. Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey recounts the path that led her to the night she met Officer Solo. Maz offers some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this started as a drabble on Tumblr. My muse decided to suddenly bite me in the ass, so my fingers just started dancing across the keyboard.   
(This chapter contains content pertaining to a legal adult engaging in sexwork)

That next day Maz had her over for tea and biscuits in her little suite two doors down. Whatever higher power existed must have smiled on Rey at least once to have put Maz in her path. Maz was a retired sex worker who had done everything from burlesque, dominatrixing, Sugar Dating, and full-contact escorting. She had years of wisdom that Rey avidly absorbed, and needed now more than ever. 

Maz had known what Rey was as soon as she dragged her too-light suitcase up the stairs of the Takodana Suites, and what Rey was back then was a mess. At 18 years old she was on the run from Plutt after a car theft gone wrong, incredibly broke, and stranded in the U.S. once her Student Visa expired because she couldn't afford school. She only had that piece of junk car that somehow drove like a dream, and $550 to last her...forever. 

Rey thought of Ubering but she quickly abandoned that idea. She kept the  _ Falcon  _ under a tarp because it  might draw too much attention of those working for Plutt, and there were already so many miles on it she was loath to add more by ferrying strangers to locations she didn’t know. So she waitressed down at the diner around the corner, but her funds evaporated like mist in the sun as the weeks ticked on. 

The diner also didn’t offer many benefits; Rey wasn’t even allowed an employee discount for food. Her legal status didn’t help her negotiations much, either. As Rey bit her nails with anxiety over her $200 shortage for the month’s rent, Maz suggested, carefully, that if Rey had the mettle and the grace to dance, to try the strip joint a mile away instead. “You have old eyes, child. Keep your head high and let them know  _ who  _ is in charge while you are on that stage, and you shall be fine.” Her eyes sparkled behind her thick glasses, and Rey could see the ghost of the temptress from the pictures that adorned walls of Maz’s room. 

Initially Rey balked at the idea of being an exotic dancer. The idea of flashing her most intimate for cash parts bucked against every sentiment of morality Rey knew, but as she worked longer and longer hours on her feet, getting anything from $80 to $13 a night in the too-slow diner, the capitalist in her slowly warmed to the idea. 

So Rey auditioned at the joint call First Order and met Phasma, the statuesque manager. She was from Germany and took Rey’s dubious legal status in stride, even fudged her paperwork once she saw Rey onstage. It did smell slightly of beer inside, but thankfully not cigarettes, and the stages were shiny chrome. Rey was put at ease by Phasma’s no-nonsense attitude and the look of the bouncers in their white uniforms. There she met Kaydel, another dancer, the bartenders Rose and Paige. But best of all was meeting the sweet janitor who was also training to be a bouncer, Finn.

Her very first night, with only a few hours of training, and no special shoes, Rey raked in $490. Phasma called her a natural, and Rey felt proud of cash she won from men with her body.  Men catcalled Rey everywhere she turned, and now she was making them pay for what they had demanded since she first grew tits. The best part was that she could stomp on them with her heels, and they seemed to love her all the more for it.

As the cash rolled in Rey quit her soul-sucking diner job with the middle finger raised high. She was able to purchase things that before the dancing days were utter luxuries: engineering books, her own Wifi in her room, and a few tools. Green food. With those tools Rey offered to help fix things around the Takodana Suites for a discount off her rent, and Amilyn Holdo, the general manager, gave her blessing once Rey proved her expertise. 

So Rey tinkered with AC units and faucets while meeting the other residents and studying by day, and by night she spun on stage to music she picked to earn a living. 

A few weeks in and the patrons began offering more for  _ private _ time with her. These Rey brushed off easily with her new high shoes and a signal to the white-clad bouncers. But one night an unusual client made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. So Rey told Kaydel where she was going to be, and with  _ whom _ , and off she went after her shift with butterflies fixing to break out of her chest.

Bazine Netal was as stunning as a sharp knife: eyebrows cut hard with dark makeup and her hair buzzed short. Rey felt more comfortable because she was a woman, at first, but Rey didn’t doubt Bazine was dangerous. The thought thrilled her. Rey’s host offered wine and beer and water, the latter which Rey nervously accepted, along with the thick stack that Bazine had promised while Rey had given her a lap dance at the First Order. 

After Rey counted everything, and found extra, Bazine was beside her, lithe and dark and beautiful, and before Rey knew it her leggings were pulled down, followed by her panties, and her thighs were held aloft by Bazine’s long-nailed hands, and her mouth on Rey’s pussy. 

Rey tried to be quiet out of some misguided desire to be polite. She tried to not make a sound as Bazine sucked on her folds and clit, drawing an arousal from Rey that she’d never felt by herself before, but after clapping her hand over her mouth Bazine withdrew from Rey’s cunt. 

“I like your voice,” Bazine whispered against Rey’s trembling thigh. She gave a slight bite that made Rey clench. “Let me hear that pretty accent...” The first round ended quickly for Rey, and as they showered together, Rey knelt and returned the favor to Bazine under the hot spray.

She _ liked _ it. Rey hadn’t thought she was partial to women, but for the sum Bazine had offered and followed through with, Rey was certainly willing to try. 

Two hours later Rey politely declined the offer of a ride from Bazine, and was walking home on shaking legs with her fist clutching the roll of money in her grey hoodie. 

$2000. For two hours. All hers with no house fees to pay out. Rey also hadn’t orgasmed in...months. If she was being honest with herself it was just as much the thrill of money for sex that made Rey cum, and not just Bazine’s slender fingers. Her heart pounded as she climbed the steps of the motel, but instead of turning towards her room she pivoted towards Maz’s. 

The old woman answered the door immediately. Rey always knocked on Maz’s door after her dancing shifts just to let her friend know she was home safe, and tonight she was hours late. As Rey stood at the threshold Maz seemed to read everything that had happened in the last few hours. She let Rey in and sat her down down but said nothing as she bustled around in her little kitchen. She gave Rey a cup of hot cocoa and settled across from her. Rey licked her lips. She could still taste Bazine there.

“Maz,” Rey began gently, but the old woman held up a hand for silence as she sipped her cocoa, likely spiked with her favorite rum. “Drink, child, and then tell me everything.”

So Rey went through the day, not fearing the slightest that Maz would judge or condemn her. Or worse, turn her in. Maz hummed with approval when Rey said she had told her friend where she was with whom, and that Rey had already texted Kaydel that she was safe.

“You had fun?” Maz asked, and Rey was taken aback. 

“...Yes, I think...”

“Do you intend to do something like this again?”

“I--,” Rey considered it. She had never had sex with a man. Dildos, yes, though. But there had never been a time or interest, and Rey had a feeling that women like Bazine were rare clients. Could she have sex with a man she had never met? The thought of strange men who could potentially hurt or rob her petrified her. But as she looked down at the $2000 on the ottoman between her and Maz, earned in a fraction of time she spent at First Order and for far less physical effort, Rey slowed down.

She could do background checks. She could have a safety net, a weapon. Rey squared her shoulders and said to Maz, “Maybe. I think...maybe.”

Maz nodded slowly. “If you are set on this, you must be careful. I will help you.” Maz directed her to a dojo where Rey signed up for self-defense from a grumpy old man named Luke, and the local clinic where Rey could get screened for minimal fees and pick up free condoms. “And  _ lube _ ,” Maz emphasized, pushing more packets into Rey’s hands so they overflowed. “For the love of all things  _ holy,  _ child,  _ do not forget the lube!” _

Rey didn’t quit her job at First Order, but she made a website with her profits and posted photos, rate information her ad, going by the name of Reina. She collected names of clients and ran background checks, and made friends with Poe, who, like Maz, had once been in the sex industry. He didn’t tell her which branch he’d done, but it wasn't her business.

A few weeks after she turned 19 Rey took her first male client in her little studio apartment. Dopheld Mitaka was salesman from England with a bit of a baby face and small penis, but Rey was honestly happy to see how non-threatening he was. He placed her fee on her coffee table without her having to ask and approached her slowly. She was nervous, and not a little afraid, but she had vetted him thoroughly, and had weapons hidden around the room. Poe was beneath her, and Maz was beside her. 

Rey was as safe as she was going to get.

To his credit he seemed just as nervous as her, so like Bazine she offered booze and water, but he was more interested in drinking  _ her  _ once he got going _ .  _ He, too, loved her accent, and Rey found herself working to come up with dirty things to say. 

The sex was mediocre, and Mitaka finished quickly, so they spent the remainder of the hour chatting about tea versus coffee, and whether Rey might ever go back to England. Once the time was up, he gave her a peck on the cheek and departed with a smile. “Best of luck, Reina.” Rey jumped at the unfamiliar name, but smiled and genuinely wished Mitaka well. 

Just like that Rey had made $400. And later that night, another $400. 

Her bank account rose steadily, and Rey supplemented her private earnings to her dancing money. She had to pay more to the house, but for tax purposes Rey was willing to pay the extra. 

So far her system had worked fine. Rey kept customer traffic to a minimum, perhaps 3 clients a day and working no more than two days a week, Poe and Maz kept an eye out for cops and any clients trying to come back around without an appointment, and Rey was tested every three months for any STIs. 

Then at the near-enough anniversary of her first client Plutt somehow found her. He staked her out, saw her clients coming and going, and called the bloody cops on her.

Poe called her so she could hear he and Officer Solo’s banter, and Rey was afraid her heart would give out as she flung her work things into her duffle bag, dancing equipment included. She ran to Maz’s room just as the phone call cut off, and passed her the overstuffed pack. When she returned to her room Plutt took advantage of her distraction and forced his way inside.

Now Rey nibbled her biscuit while Maz told her story of how she had been arrested back in 1978. She was only half paying attention and Maz noticed.

“Are you listening, child?” Maz snapped, and Rey startled. At her guilty look, Maz sighed. “You are not in chains, my girl. You were extraordinarily lucky. And he _was_ a rather handsome officer,” Maz wiggled her non-existent eyebrows at Rey, who blushed. 

“I suppose,” Rey said as she cupped her mug, “If you like craggy features and being crushed by a giant.” Idly she wondered how well endowed he was. Her experience taught her that you often couldn’t judge _ that  _ about men by height or build. Some of the twiggiest men she encountered had massive cocks, and the tallest sometimes had nearly nothing.  _ Probably massive balls,  _ Rey mused,  _ maybe a shower, but not a grower _ . 

“He is a soft one,” Maz said into her cup, and Rey choked on her own tea. While Rey coughed the drink from her throat Maz went on, “He has a hard shell, though, but it is brittle. When he saw you he became soft as a lamb. He is oddly familiar, too. I believe he has come before when Bala Tik nearly burned the building down. Ooh,” Maz sighed in delight as she looked back into the past. “He is a strong one.”

“Jesus, Maz,” Rey gasped, but she remembered how he had handled Plutt’s bulk like nothing. Officer Solo’s arms were long and corded with muscle, and his chest was broad beneath his uniform. “He’s a  _ cop. _ ”

“So?” Maz shrugged. “Flesh is flesh, my love. And he took his sweet time getting here, don’t you agree?”

“I guess,” Rey said, and it was true. He left his lights on for a long while, and Rey saw him look up at her room more than once. But he went to Poe’s desk instead of her door, giving her the chance to hide what she did for a living.

But it didn’t matter. Rey shrugged. “I have to go get ready, Maz,” she said as she stood, and Maz saw her to the door. 

“Be careful, my dear,” Maz said, as she always did, and Rey smiled at the little old woman who had all but adopted Rey. As Rey stepped out, Maz held her wrist, and Rey turned.

“Despite what I said about that officer, Rey, do be careful. I do not think he is soft for people often, and he knows it. He may look for you. Do not let him find you, if you can help it.”

A shiver passed through Rey, and it stayed with her as she packed her dance bag, and walked to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey! I hope you guys liked this. Feel free to leave comments and thoughts. I don't know where I'm going with this story, and it's gonna get even more complex as I go!


	3. Bailed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Ben Solo follows his intuition, but is it all in his head?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome back! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!  
I went ahead and posted a song link for when the music actually starts in the story. Normally I wouldn't do that, but I figured: Why not? This is for fun.

Ben found her: Rey Niima, once registered as a student at Jakku University. Date of birth: December 20th, 1999._ Jesus, she was only 19, at the most..._ Ben shifted uncomfortably in his stiff chair to remember how sexy he’s found her in that too-big hoodie. No recent social media posts, the latest one being a Facebook post back in 2016. She didn’t even have a profile picture anymore... While she was on Facebook, her page was more focused on sharing videos on cool science and paralyzed puppies that learned to walk than about her life. For an attractive Gen Z kid, it was downright weird. 

He chewed on his pencil as he pinpointed another thing about her that seemed..._off. _Her last name was strange. It was exotic for a Brit, and at first, he thought she might have some Middle Eastern in her, but as he researched the name he found out more about her than he’d bargained for.

_Niima Children’s Center in Bristol, U.K. _She was an orphan. Ben felt the air rush from his lungs as he violated her privacy further, reading up on the system that had been the one to name Rey. _Children are a part of our family, and as such deserve the dignity of a name, _Ben read,_ and those left without one on our doorstep therefore share ours. _He scoffed at the hokey bullshit even as he felt a stab of pity for Rey. The damn place had 2 1/2 stars on its Google ratings, and he doubted they’d improved since she was in the system. He read on, and it didn’t get any happier: _Following the adoption of our angels, we work in junction with the government and families to legally change their names. _

Rey had never been adopted. She had aged out of the system in Britain and was here in the U.S. of A. trying to start a life for herself, even attending college, but any record of her from Jakku Uni cut off after only one semester. Based on where she was living now, Ben guessed she had run out of funds. 

If Ben Solo had been a weaker man, he might have wept. But he had seen buddies blown to bits by I.E.D.s and little kids laid out in rows in the dust of Afghanistan, so pardon him if he didn’t. Still, it was a sob story so far as the First World went. The only thing missing was an abusive uncle and dead dog. But she hadn’t quit yet, and for that, she had Ben’s respect. _Not that she needs it. _19 years old. Jesus. He had 10 years on her...

He straightened in his seat when he saw a familiar figure out on the floor of the precinct. _Plutt_! and flanking him were two men in dark clothes. Even from where he sat, Ben could see Plutt was sweating. Ben shot to his feet, startling the woman in the cubicle beside him, and strode towards the door, which he ripped open hard enough to rattle the blinds nearly to the point of breaking. But it was too late; Plutt was already climbing into a car which, based on the quality of his clothes, he could not have afforded through honest effort. Ben snarled as he watched the car pull away. 

Plutt was due for the jail later that day. His blood tests had come out positive for alcohol and speed and based on that fact that Plutt had been driving the night he’d harassed the Takodana Suite _(and Rey)_ was enough for a nice little sentence, if Ben had his way. But it was out of the hands of a lowly patrol officer. 

_Hux. _He was the only officer on duty who could authorize release from holding, so Ben stomped up the stairs to the next floor of the precinct, intent on giving the ginger prick what for. Hux’s door was closed and the blinds were drawn as Ben approached, but he nearly punched in the face of a bespeckled man who emerged. He held to his chest a leather folio stamped with the emblem of law firm Ben only vaguely recognized. Behind that lawyer, though, was a man Ben could only think of as a _thug. _Hulking, taller and thicker than even Ben, he followed the lawyer like his shadow. He barely glanced at Ben, and it set an odd weight in his chest. He made Ben feel like _nothing. _He hated it, heated how that rattled him.

Ben caught the door before it clicked close and opened his mouth to rip Hux a new asshole but was stopped by the sight before him. 

Hux, the proudest primmest prick of the police precinct, was bent over his deck holding his face, and his office was in shambles. Folders’ contents were scattered across the floor, old-fashioned inkwells tipped over and bleeding their contents across the desk. Books littered the ground, each one thrown a little farther away from the shelf and closer to Hux. 

Ben let the door click close with significantly more care than he’d been prepared to use, and Hux raised his head. His immaculately combed hair was in disarray and a bruise was forming on the sharp plane of his cheek beneath his grey eye. 

“Officially,” Hux smoothed his hair as best he could, “I tripped against my desk.”

* * *

Hours later Ben chewed the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood. He couldn’t concentrate on his paperwork for the rest of the shift, but was grateful that, at the least, he wasn’t on patrol again that night. He was still a goddamn patrol officer even after 2 years on the force and nearly a decade in the Marines before that, and he was fast losing his patience. Ben brought results, and he certainly had a knack for detective work. But whenever he broached the subject of promotion with any of his superiors Hux blocked him. He’d heard Hux use terms like “unbalanced” and “aggressive.” Ben, in turn, used terms like “pussy” for Hux.

Hux was all politics, and Ben didn’t doubt he shelled out favors to those who greased his pockets. He often made calls that Ben didn’t agree with when it came to avoiding fights with powerful people. But not this time. This time, Hux had displeased someone._ Someone more powerful. _They had lawyers and muscle, and both came to bring the pain on Hux.

...At the same time Plutt, a small-time thug, was released after only a day and a half in holding, bail paid in full, and escorted off police property into a fancy car. As Ben frantically searched the system, he didn’t even see if Plutt had a court date set up. 

Everything on Plutt was gone. Scrubbed. Ben’s fists clenched

It couldn’t be a coincidence. It couldn’t. But a wave of doubt nearly choked him; what if this was all in his head? Ben certainly hoped that his mind wasn’t trying to make up things up and connecting dots not even the same color just so he could feel like a hero again. But his gut was screaming at him that there was something here.

Coruscant had its dirt, it was true, and the police department most of all, but this was ridiculous. This wasn’t why he’d finally let himself be discharged. He’d come home to make a difference _at home, _but the best thing he’d done in _months_ was arresting some guy trying to ruin a girl barely of age that Ben spent most of the day stalking online. Unless he got the story out of Hux, all he had was guess work and doubt, and Hux was shut up like a clam. 

…It _was_ a Friday, though, and as Ben glanced at his watch, he saw it was nearly five o’ clock. A quick search on his phone for the latest Happy Hour yielded some club whose name Ben could care about later.

He had a ginger to grease up.

…_Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrasing_…

As his shift wound down, Ben again approached Hux’s office. He didn’t bother knocking but slid a piece of paper under the door giving the address to the club and the offer of free booze.

Before Ben was even halfway back down the stairs, the door was opened, and Hux emerged with his cap pulled low over his eyes. As he came down the stairs, he told Ben, “You’re driving. And taking me home.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Ben muttered, already dreading the amount of alcohol Hux was fixing to extort from him.

* * *

Ben would never live down the fact he’d brought Hux to a _titty bar_. Hux certainly wasn’t going to let him. Three shots of vodka in and Hux was promising as much, laughing harder than Ben had ever seen. But still, the club’s prices were reasonable for a Strip Club Happy Hour, which lasted until seven, and one of the cute Asian bartenders took pity on Ben and gave him a whiskey on the house. It was probably well, but Ben was not an ungrateful man.

“I didn’t pay attention to the place,” Ben muttered to Hux, who had changed into a reasonably casual shirt of light blue polo from his own car back at the precinct. Ben too had changed and left his uniform and gun in the car. The black long sleeve was perfect for the cooling autumn weather outside, but inside the club he’d pushed them over his forearms. He didn’t miss the way the bouncers eyed he and Hux, though, and knew their civilian “disguise” fooled no one. Still, he kept Hux by the bar and with their backs to the stage, and the bouncers finally let their attention drift back to protecting the dancers. 

He ignored the sounds of the crowd as a dancer named Kaydel wound down her dance to “Buttons” and tried to put together the best way to interrogate Hux on what happened without the man getting defensive. 

But the drunker Hux got, the more he wanted to see the show. He sounded like a goddamn kid wanting to go to the toy shop. In the lurid red lights of the club, Hux’s face matched his hair, and Ben realized how badly the day had rattled him.

Hux’d been cowed and humiliated in his own place of power, so much so that he was willing to accept charity from _Ben_ of all people, with whom Hux could not say he had a warm relationship with, and all he wanted to see pretty girls dance, and drink so much he would forget those pretty girls by the morning. 

So, Ben momentarily abandoned his plot to pry information from Hux and helped his boss stumble into a seat closer to the stage. Amazingly, one of the patrons stood from a table right at the end of the stage, and Hux all but threw himself into the seat. He _hissed _at one of the other men there, and the patron backed away slowly with his hands raised.

“Youuu know, Solo,” Hux lilted as Ben joined him, “_you_ are not so bad... Even though you want something from me.” Hux grinned and scoffed, and Ben knew his “genius plan” was out the door. In the comparative quiet between the dancers’ performances, Ben leaned over. “I do.”

“Well,” Hux breathed, slit-eyed. “_Honesty. _I_ like _that, Solo.” Hux’s hand fell heavy on Ben’s upper thigh, and such utter surprise filled him that he was motionless. But the lull between performers was over, and a woman's velvety voice with a hint of a German accent cut over whatever Ben was fixing to say.

_“And now, gentlemen, we present to you: the sweetest bit of sunshine to escape the British Isles... I give you: Rey!” _

Ben nearly jumped out of his skin and he whipped his head towards the stage so fast he tasted hair in his mouth. _No way. There’s no fucking way..._

_(https://youtu.be/c417rIku6Iw)_

The lights around them shifted from garish reds to mellow blues that rippled like water against the shores of an island. “Glory Box” by Portishead began its seductive throb of bass and drums, and Ben remembered the year the album came out, and it was before Rey had even been born. _Kid has good taste. _

But the knee of those gorgeous (_achingly familiar, but not familiar enough_) legs peeked through the velvet curtains, his mouth dried up. Hux’s hand on his thigh was forgotten as Rey Niima put her dainty little white shoes out onto the stage. The curtains parted for her, and Ben felt his body grow hot when she was fully revealed. She wore short white robe whose smooth texture reflected the flowing lights, and her hair was down and wavy, just brushing her shoulders.

As she slowly made her way down the runway to the beat of the song her fine hands toyed with the bow at her waist teasingly. She worked that material so slowly Ben wanted to reach up and tear it apart, and fuck her right on that stage. In the back of his head he was mildly horrified at the ferocity of his desire, but it was quickly silenced by snapping at himself: _She is a legal adult_.

When the melody deepened, Rey spun on the pole, so the white robe flew open like angel wings. He imagined the very edge of the robe brushed his nose and he could smell her: she smelled like sun-warmed linen and sugar and sweat. _She still gets nervous performing, _Ben guessed. 

With a few seductive shrugs the robe slithered to the ground in a pile, so close Ben could reach out and touch it, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely _breathe _as her white babydoll nighty was revealed whose sheer material allowed the audience to see the taut skin of her navel and the panties beneath them. When she spun again Ben could see the golden skin of her ass and just the barest hint of her tucked-away woman’s place. A place that was warm and wet and _fuck...!_

Hux’s hand slipped into Ben’s pocket, and Ben raised his fist to punch the shit out of the soulless prick, but instead of going for his dick, Hux pulled out Ben’s wallet. There was a resignation in Hux’s drunken features. “Here,” Hux fished around in Ben’s wallet for a $20, as opposed to the traditional $1. Money already littered the stage while Rey twisted and dipped around that pole. Hux spoke over the music: “Tip the poor woman well if you want her to look twice at you. It’s all that catches a woman like her...” 

Ben felt a flash of irritation as he snatched his wallet and bill back. He held the bill out, debating whether to snap at Hux that Rey wasn’t like that. But despite his research (_stalking) _he really didn’t _know_ her. Even though he wanted to.

Ben turned back to her just as the nighty was removed by a clasp between her breasts, then, and she was clad only in a lacy thong better suited for a bride than a stripper. He froze once again.

Her breasts were so beautiful. Round, just full enough to jiggle, but still so perky they didn’t rest against her chest. In the strobing blue light the color of her nipples could have been either brown or very dark pink, and Ben couldn’t decide which color he liked the idea of more. His cock strained at the seam of his pants at the idea of sucking on those nipples, color be damned!

Rey began crawling along the stage so he could see those incredible tits barely swing as she moved, smiling at the other men who crowded the stage. She stretched out, ass raised in the air, and panned her gaze across the patrons there, promising pleasure and pain and everything wonderful with her eyes. 

He could pinpoint the exact moment she saw and recognized him. The coy smile faltered, and he read genuine fear in her eyes. Ben understood her fear and hated himself for it.

Ben looked away and would have simply tossed the $20 if not for Hux taking Ben’s arm with surprising strength for a man so wiry and waggling the bill towards her. Ben was too overwhelmed by the sight of her beauty and fear to knock Hux’s lights out. “Take it, girl!” Hux shouted over the song and the roaring of blood in Ben’s ears. “He’s got a huge cock! You should come dance on it!”

At that Ben _did _turn towards Hux with murder in his heart, but a soft touch at his fingers diverted him back to Rey, who gently pulled the crumpled bill from his grip. Her fingertips were devoid of the gaudy claws some dancers wore but were tastefully painted the same white as her panties. Her smile was returned, and instead of seductive and coy, it was a gentle offering of thanks. 

Something felt warm in his belly. He felt like a hero, or at least a decent person, for the first time in a long time thanks to that smile. Ben felt his mouth crook in a grin in return. Still with that kind smile on her lips Rey rose with her knees spread wide and slowly, _oh_, so slowly, began bending backwards until all he could see was her bald slit barely concealed by the white lace and the muscles of her stomach stretching tight. 

The song came to a close and the lights dimmed low. In the silence that followed, Ben could hear his heart racing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody feel mildly bad for Hux? He shouldn't have felt Ben up, as it was inappropriate of a supervisor, but Hux was drunk and thought he had consent. Don't worry, Ben won't forget that anytime soon!
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day! I would dearly love any thoughts y'all might have!


	4. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is torn between fear of Officer Solo and the dawning realization that he is a human being.

Rey’s heart pounded like it had the night Plutt broke into her room, or the first time she took a client. That terror of the aggressive and the unknown both applied to Officer Solo, and it wasn’t good for her blood pressure.

She scrambled in the semi-dark for her tips and departed from the stage. The heavy velvet wrapped around her, deafening the applause of the patrons, and Rey felt the horror at her idiocy overwhelm her.

The cop who knew where she _lived _now knew where she _worked. _Was he stalking her? Staking her out until he caught her taking clients? To make matters worse she had practically shoved her cunt in his stupid _face. _As if _that _was supposed to render her innocent in his eyes. 

Rey was scheduled for another dance later that night, but she was so terrified that her legs trembled, and she was visibly shaken when Phasma approached her backstage that her normally tough boss sent her home.

“Was it that man with the drunk cop?” Phasma asked. Rey hadn’t realized the red-haired man was also an officer. The new knowledge did nothing to ease her anxiety. Rey bit her lip and considered. The only thing Phasma could do was toss the officers out of the club, maybe bar them from coming back. But Rey had no interest in making either of them mad, so she begged her boss to not do anything. 

Phasma  _ hmph _ ed and crossed her arms, but let it go. “Did you walk tonight?” 

Rey nodded absently as she laid her cash out and began organizing it. Phasma continued, “Have someone drive you; I’ll see look at the schedule if anyone else is cut yet.”

Rey smiled up at her boss. Phasma had a generous heart, despite the gruff exterior she put up to the clients. She had trained Rey into something resembling an entertainer and protected her from Immigration as best she could. “I’ll keep the drinks coming for the cops,” Phasma waved Rey off. “You head out the back and get home safe.” On impulse, Rey hugged Phasma, and she only hesitated for a moment before she patted Rey’s shoulder with surprising gentleness. 

Rey thanked her boss profusely once again, but declined one of the bouncers driving her home, and said she would call an Uber. Phasma knew what a cheapskate Rey was, though, and sent Finn to see her into her car. 

_ Who is stupid now?  _ Rey groused to herself as she was forced to _ pay _ for an Uber for the mere mile back to her home. Finn whistled next to her, purposefully ignoring her sour look. “Nice night tonight, eh, Rey?” He was a handsome young man only a few years older than Rey, and so kind that Rey often let herself feel comfortable around him. Tonight, though, Rey was so on edge that even Finn’s sweet disposition couldn’t make her feel better. 

After Rey put in the request she and Finn ambled towards the front of the club. Finn frowned. “I can drive you home, Rey, it’s no problem. Where do you live?”

“None of your business,” Rey snapped. She only felt a little guilty to see the hurt flash across Finn’s face. But it really wasn’t his business. She didn’t want any of her coworkers to know she was living in nothing short of a long-term hotel, as if she couldn’t afford a real place to call home. She didn’t want Finn’s pity or offer for help; which she knew he would give. But Rey didn’t want anyone to save her. She didn’t even like bringing her clients there, but that was for a different reason.

Finn angled away from her, at first, but like a kicked puppy he nudged her again. “That was a good show tonight. Robe was a good touch. Not many can pull that off.”

The compliment warmed her, and Finn noticed. He went on, “Yeah, I saw those two guys at the front, the giant and the redhead? Oh, man their faces were  _ priceless _ when you bent back like that. I thought their eyes were going to pop out!” 

Rey felt a bubble of nervous laughter well up. She hadn’t seen that. “Really?” she asked, and Finn laughed. “Yeah. I thought the redhead played more for my team, but damn,” Finn whistled and scanned Rey up and down so she laughed again, “Seriously, you really were on fire tonight.”

A ping on her phone interrupted Rey before she could thank Finn, and she groaned aloud. A 15-minute wait for a car to take her the bloody distance she could make by herself! It was pricier than normal, too. Lots of people were out partying and drinking, and Uber was backed up.

“Let me just bring you home, Rey,” Finn whined good-naturedly, reaching out to touch her elbow. “Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal...”

“Finn!” Rey shook her arm off, and a new voice cut in before her friend could reply.

“Is there an issue here, folks?’

Rey’s blood froze as she and Finn turned together. It was Officer Solo, phone in hand, and legs spread shoulder-width apart as though at attention. Seated on the bench beside the entrance was the obviously drunk red-haired man. But Solo ignored his friend as his eyes wandered from Finn to Rey and back. “Is he bothering you, miss?”

Rey could tell the officer was dangerous. Physical differences aside, Finn lacked the obvious pernicious energy that rolled off Solo in waves. Not only that but her friend was oblivious to said energy, too, and said sarcastically, “We’re fine, thanks.” He bent closer to Rey and lowered his voice, “Did you want to go back inside...?” 

Rey shrank away from both Finn and Solo, the whole situation, really, and shook her head. Solo must have misread her discomfort. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He turned his eyes to her. “Ma’am,” Solo said, and Rey couldn’t resist the pull of his voice. It wasn’t  _ quite  _ a command, but not entirely a request, either. She turned head so her eyes met his and found their intensity unsettling. It reminded Rey of how he’d looked at her just the night before: hungry and searching. For what, Rey couldn’t guess, yet she couldn’t see any intent to hurt her. She just saw a man with an ounce power wanting help someone he thought needed it. The knot in her chest loosened a bit, and Rey was reminded of his kindness the night he’d arrested Plutt.

“I’m fine,” Rey said softly to both Finn and Solo. Her phone pinged again, and she checked for her ride. “Oh,  _ fuck me! _ ” Rey snapped. The driver had cancelled her. Even the inflated fee wasn’t enough to bring her the measly mile.

“Oh, speaking of,” the red-headed man said from his perch. He had lit a cigarette and was looking moderately more sober as he took a drag. “You were that dancer in white. Lovely show.  _ Gorgeous _ song. Ben loved it.” He flicked some ash in his friend’s direction, which was dodged.

_ So that’s his name,  _ Rey thought as Ben flushed a deep pink and bit his cheek but didn’t drop his eyes from Rey. “I remember when that album came out. ‘94. My mom loved it.”

“…Your  _ mother?”  _ The redhead looked up at Officer Ben with utter disgust. “I set you up and you talk about your  _ mother _ ?”

Finn was coughing into his hand to disguise his laugh, and Rey was folding in her lips to stop her own smile. Just like that Ben wasn’t a mindless extension of the law that sought to destroy people like her. He was a man who talked about his mom to a girl he found attractive. She could almost forget he’d just seen her vagina and tits and was a fucking _cop_. Almost.

Ben and the redhead continued to banter. “You know what,  _ Armitage _ ? You can Uber home. I don’t need this.” 

“You _promised!”_ Armitage spluttered. He belched politely into his hand. “Now who’s car am I supposed to get sick in? You know what? Never mind,” He pulled out his phone with some difficulty and squinted at the screen. For his level of drunkenness, it took him two minutes to pull up the app. When he did, he made a satisfied _ah. _

Rey held up her phone in warning. “They’re busy.” 

Armitage scoffed and leaned against the bushes after he made the request. “I live across town. No one will turn _my _fee down.”

“And I can take you home, Rey,” Finn rolled his eyes.

“No, I’ll just walk,” Rey said as she stepped away. Finn blanched, “Are you crazy? We are not  _ walking  _ at 2 am!” 

_ “We, _ ” Rey said and looked at Finn pointedly, “are not. I am. See you later, Finn.”

“Oh,  _ come on, _ Rey!” Finn threw his arms up. “I can’t just leave you.” 

“Bye, Finn. I’ll call you when I get home.”

Rey hoped Finn wouldn’t follow her, but she wouldn’t put it past him if he did. She jogged away before her friend could protest and melted into the cityscape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case Rey seems extra brusque with Finn, kindly re-watch their first interactions in TFA.  
Please leave comments! I am a needy little thing and comments make my little heart happy.


	5. Shots Fired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things escalate.

Rey let herself slow down as the blocks passed and she heard no sign Finn. The night air was bracing, and her wallet full of cash. Rey permitted herself a small giggle at the day. It was all so ridiculous: running into Officer Solo again right after Maz warned her off him, evading Finn, and listening to Ben and Armitage tear at each other semi-good naturedly.

Rey’s shadow lengthened in front of her as a car approached from behind, and the giggle ceased. She could hear the car slowing down. In her pocket she had bear mace, and she was prepared to make a break for the alleyway just ahead…

The car was beside her now. Rey resolutely looked ahead and ignored the driver. She was prepared to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.

“Miss Rey!”

Rey felt a spike of adrenaline run through her as she whipped her head towards the sound of her name. It was coming from the car and she saw Officer Ben fucking Solo leaning towards her through the passenger window of his car. “Rey, I need to speak with you.”

Genuine fear killed any sympathy she may have had for him. _He was stalking her. _“No, thank you.” Rey sped up, but Officer Solo kept pace in his car. Rey considered calling the cops on _him, _but she didn’t want any more police attention on her than necessary. He seemed to read her mind: “Rey, I swear I’m not trying to hurt you. I need to tell you something.”

Rey spun on her heel towards the car and saw him looking at her just as intently as before. She could tell he wanted her. She didn’t trust him. “Then tell me,” she said. “Go ahead. Right here.”

He parked. “Plutt has been released.”

The blood drained from her face. “What…?”

Ben nodded. “I know. Please, check your apartment. You can call Poe, if he’s working tonight. Is he?”

Rey nodded. Her palms were sweating as she dialed Poe right there on the sidewalk as Solo pulled his car closer to the curb. 

Poe picked up on the second ring, bless his heart. _ “Rey? What’s up?” _

“Poe,” Rey breathed, “I was just told Plutt is out. Can you…?”

_“What?! That son of a bitch is out? Yeah, let me go check…”_

Rey took a shaking breath as Poe hung up. Ben peered out at her. Rey didn’t want to give him any indication that she trusted him, but she had to _know_. “How is Plutt out already? Are you lying to me?”

“Why would I lie?” Ben climbed out of his car, and Rey backed away towards the building. Just barely. Luke’s lessons on breaking someone’s grip on you and evasion were drifting through her mind, but she didn’t act on them, yet. She pressed the camera icon on her phone and started recording him, just in case.

“To get me to trust you. Go somewhere with you.”

Ben came around to her side and leaned against his car. Folded his impossibly strong-looking arms. He nodded slowly. “Good points. But really, he’s out. Bail was posted. ...I would really rather we had this conversation less in the open.”

“I’m quite fine with having it here,” Rey bit. Her phone buzzed, and the recording was cut off. _ Oh, well. _ Rey swiped her screen and pressed her phone to her ear. “Poe?”

_ “Rey,” _ Poe’s voice was drawn tight and low, _ “Rey, don’t come home yet.” _

“What?” Rey’s voice cracked, and she turned away from Ben. “Why? Poe?”

_ “There’s someone trying to open your door. I’ll see if I can get them away from here.” _

“What’s happening?” Ben was suddenly beside her, and Rey numbly yielded her phone to him. “Poe? It’s Officer Solo. No, I’m not stalking her. What do these people look like? Can you see their cars?” Ben placed his hand on her shoulder, and Rey shrugged it off irritably.

“Call the cops on duty, say Solo requested them. I’ll take care of her.” He hung up.

“I don’t _ need _you to take care of me!” Rey snarled at Ben. He handed her phone to her, and she felt half a child from the way she snatched it back. She set off back down the pavement. “Apparently it’s a day for stalkers!”

“I didn’t _ know _ you worked there,” Ben hurried beside her. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

“No.” Ben held her still gently but firmly, and she was _ very _ready to punch his thick throat out, but he was a cop. There was nothing Rey could do. She hated her helplessness against him, and she was sure her resentment showed. Ben retracted his hand and held both them up. Together they could nearly wrap her waist. “Wait until Poe calls again. The patrol officer on duty should be able to handle it. Until then… Can I get you something to eat?”

Rey could have thrown her head up at the sky and laughed maniacally, but she settled for a scoff. “No, thank you, _Officer_ Solo, I can handle it. I need to get home before someone _steals_ from me.”

“Rey,” Ben snapped, and she flinched. “Plutt had an escort.”

Rey flinched, and he saw it. “Two men,” he continued, and Rey felt her blood freeze. She had practically just outed herself. Ben looked down.

There was another ringtone, this time Maz’s special one. Rey hurriedly picked up. “Maz? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

_“I’m fine, my dear. But you need to make yourself scarce. Book a room somewhere. I have to go.”_

Rey kept the phone next to her ear even after the line went dead. _What the bloody hell is going on? _Rey’s mind raced ahead. Poe, Maz, both right next to someone trying to break into her place. The _Falcon _was also at the apartment, hidden under a tarp and painted a different color. So, there she was: stuck without a roof over her head or transportation for _at least _the next few hours. And a cop who seemed intent on babysitting her. 

She turned to look at Ben. He was leaning forward, almost hunched, to look her right in the eyes. She didn’t like all these coincidences, but if she was this down on her luck, may as well take free food before she had to shell out cash for a hotel or run for the hills. “I prefer Denny’s.”

He nodded. “Denny’s is good.”

Rey shot off a text to Maz and Finn that included Ben’s licence plates and where she was going while Solo opened the front passenger door for her. Rey ignored him and climbed into the back seat as though it was an Uber. Ben let the front door close with no words. 

The interior was so clean it looked nearly new. Being a cop must pay better than she heard, unless he was a bought officer. But she somehow doubted that. Ben opened the driver’s door, and in the sudden light Rey happened to see a small photo in the cupholder. It was obviously Ben, with his short black hair and long face, and he was dressed in tan military fatigues. He was kneeling in the beige dust with a small child in a long white shirt perched on his knee. Rey couldn’t tell the gender of the child, because they were wearing a too-large helmet that obscured their entire face, except for a wide gap-toothed grin. Ben’s own smile was awkward in the bright light in the photo, but Rey could see the gentleness there. Maybe even a little bit of happiness.

Ben started the car. The engine purred to life, and Rey appreciated the quality of it. Despite herself, she relaxed. “You were in the Army?” Rey asked.

A beat passed as Ben glanced back at her. “Marines,” he grunted. He glanced down at the photo. His eyes darkened. “That was Afghanistan, 2011.” The car was a standard, Rey noticed. He fiddled with the stick shift before putting it in gear. “Kid was named Malik. Good kid.”

Rey _ hmmmed _ quietly, and asked, “Do you keep in contact? Send letters, maybe?”

Ben was silent for so long she wondered if he heard her. She opened her mouth to ask again, but Ben finally said, quietly, “He died a few weeks after that photo. Taliban moved in right after we left.”

Rey felt her throat constrict. What on earth could she say to that? Ben glanced in the rear-view mirror at her, and noticed her blink a tear away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Ben said, and there was that tone that Rey recognized from herself. The one she used whenever someone tried to pity her for being an orphan, or a stripper. Matter-of-fact. Closing. Conversation over. Rey nodded and leaned back into the leather seat and didn’t utter a single word for the rest of the brief trip. She picked Denny’s for a reason: she could still make her way home quickly if she needed to make a break for it.

Ben pulled into the parking lot and Rey was out before he even turned off the car. She noticed he had left the doors unlocked, and she appreciated the small gesture. But she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Still, she waited until the meal ticket unfolded himself from his car, and he gestured before himself. “After you.”

Rey nodded and went ahead, and when she reached the doors she opened them for Ben, who had tried to get them himself. It was her way of apologizing for the car door bit, but he still looked mildly embarrassed. But maybe that was just his default expression.

The diner was deserted, and they waited side-by-side with their hands stuffed in their pockets for a few stiff minutes before the hostess appeared and sat them at a booth. 

Ben requested a black coffee, _ of course, _ and Rey as well, but with cream on the side. Rey picked up her menu was fastidiously ignoring that Ben was staring at her, yet again. She felt his gaze burning her forehead, so she pointedly glanced up. Ben took the hint and directed his gaze elsewhere, namely the rest of the restaurant. 

Their waitress dropped the cups off with Rey’s creamer and a full pot just for the two of them. Ben smiled a little at that, although Rey knew it was more for the waitress’s convenience than theirs. Rey ordered the Grand Slam with an extra side of eggs, and Ben ordered a Fit Omlet. _ Fitness nut, _ Rey surmised. She was struck again by how _ broad _ he was, and wondered when he had time for the gym outside of police work and stalking strippers. _ And escorts... _

Ben didn’t say a word while Rey sipped her sweetened coffee and he nursed his own cup. She was fidgeting and checking her phone every two seconds, it felt like, while she waited for him to just _ say _something. Anything!

Rey broke first, though she cringed at herself. “So what happened to Armitage? Did he get into his car alright?”

He blinked. “Who, Hux? No idea. I asked your friend to keep an eye on him, though.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “_ Finn _? And he agreed to that?”

Ben shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he?”

_ Because Finn knows you make me uncomfortable. Finn doesn’t like cops. _Rey just hrugged, though, and toyed with her mug. Checked her phone. Again. She sighed and looked towards the kitchen. How long did two plates take? She almost considered running out right then. Her apartment, Maz, and Poe were vulnerable. Things were starting to build up in her head, and she didn’t like the look of the equation.

Ben leaned forward. “You know,” he said, “I could help you a lot more if you tell me why Plutt is after you.”

“He’s a creep,” Rey bit. She glanced at her phone.

“I agree. But he said you stole his car, not that you refused to have sex with him.” 

Rey pushed her mug away. “Is this an interrogation?”

“No.”

“It feels like one.”

“Rey,” Ben leaned forward. “Plutt gets released, his record is wiped, my boss gets intimidated, and now someone is trying to break into your apartment. What does that look like to you?”

Rey replied, “It sounds like you can’t do anything if your boss got his arm bent back.”

“I can help you.”

“I don’t _ need _your help.”

Ben couldn’t reply as their food finally arrived. It was steaming and smelled so heavenly Rey barely waited for the plate to touch down before she stuffed a piece of bacon in her mouth. She moaned at the taste and ignored Ben’s blush. They silently unrolled their silverware and dug in. 

Something bugged her, though. She swallowed a bite before saying, “What do you mean, Plutt’s record was wiped?”

Ben dabbed at his full lips. “Just that. Everything on him is gone.”

Rey blinked. And frowned. “You said men were with him when he left the police station?”

“Yes. Two. And a car was waiting while Hux was dealing with some lawyer and muscle. Sound like anything you should know about?”

Rey felt fear start its dreaded path down her body. Plutt was one of many dealers who trafficked in stolen cars. She had once worked for Plutt, but never had she seen whom _ he _worked for. But she knew they were dangerous. Her hands started to shake around her utensils, and she let them clatter on the table before she hid her hands in her hoodie. 

_ Rey felt her gorge rise as she watched through the crack. A man was tied to a chair inside, head lolled to the side and blood dripped from his mouth. Plutt stood before him with two others Rey didn’t recognize, but knew they were bad news. _

_ She shouldn’t be there. But she had needed the money from Plutt owed her for the last car she’d repaired. So she had gone to the garage where Teedo said Plutt would be, and found the situation unfolding before her. _

_ The man was lanky and Hispanic, with a neat mustache and goatee. She caught his eye, and saw his plea for help before one of the two associates punched him again. Rey stifled her gasp, but barely. _

_ Plutt was talking to the man, “Cassian, where is it? Snoke won’t stop. You need to tell us where they’ve got it. Your old lady is next if you don’t.” _

_ Cassian spat at Plutt’s feet. “Fuck you. You won’t touch Jyn. She’ll kick all your asses.” _

_ Plutt grunted. “That bitch can’t get far. Our boys are everywhere. She kill any cops or she’s fucked. You hear me? Nowhere for her to go. This is the last chance you have to save her fucking life.” _

_ Cassian caught Rey’s eye again, and this time the message he transmitted was for her to _ run _ . Rey had heard too much. She backed away. Her sneakers scuffed the ground. One of the two thugs with Plutt turned toward the noise, but Cassian jumped in his seat, yelling, and the thug turned his attention back to him. _

_ Rey’s heart pounded in her ears. She wanted to help. Plutt was always horrible to her, and now she knew for a fact that he was evil. But if what Plutt said was true, Rey couldn’t trust any cops. _

_ Cassian said, “Your little Empire is going to crumble one day. You got cops, but we have Senators and our own underground. We got the Feds coming for you, _ pendejo _ . You ain’t gonna get Death Star on the streets. We destroyed the file.” _

_ Plutt scoffed. “As if. You ain’t gonna destroy it ‘cuz you need it for _ proof. _ Last chance, Andor.” There was a click of a gun, and Rey’s stomach rebelled even more. They were going to kill him. She didn’t know this Cassian, but he had protected her, if only briefly. He didn’t deserve death. Rey withdrew her little prepaid cell and prepared to call the police. If she could just disrupt them... _

_ It would do no good. Impotent tears welled in Rey’s eyes, and she mourned this underdog, this stranger. Cassian could see her, and he made no reply to Plutt or his men. _

_ Plutt finally sighed. “You know what, Andor? Guess we gotta go after Jyn now. Ready?” _

_ Cassian gave a gentle smile. _ It’s okay, _ it said, and he leaned his head back and winked at Rey. “Ready to fly free as a _ Falcon, _ brother.” _

_ Rey turned and ran before the gun sounded off, and she jumped as it did. She was afraid that they had seen her and were firing _ at _ her, but she didn’t dare look back. Rey ran around the back of the garage to where rows of “liberated” cars sat awaiting mechanics like Rey to spruce them up for resale on the back market. She glanced wildly about for a place to hide, and saw the vintage body of a ‘77 Falcon. Cassian’s last words repeated in her mind, and she saw the doors were unlocked. Rey threw herself in the back seat and huddled down and sobbed for poor Cassian Andor and herself. _

_ Death Star? Empire? Recipe? Senators and cops and proof? Rey wished she had never left England. This was obviously a drug ring that went far deeper than cars and mechanics. What could she do? She didn’t have a job away from Plutt, but she couldn’t go back to working for him. Not after this. _

_ She realized, belatedly, that there were cameras where Rey had been standing. If they reviewed the footage from that day, they would _ know, _ and Rey was as good as dead, or worse. _

_ She had to disappear. Vanish. _

_ And she just so happened to be sitting in a vehicle... _

_ So Rey hotwired the ‘77 Falcon and tore out of the lot. She slumped low in her seat, but Plutt may have seen her. Either way, she wasn’t shot at. Upon getting back to Jakku Uni she ran into her dorm and threw anything useful she could get her hands on into her suitcase. Took out her savings from the bank. Screamed. Then Rey got back into the _ Falcon _ and drove for hours away from Jakku for the biggest city she could think of: Coruscant. She would sell the car, and blend into the city. She would be fine. She would be fine. She would be fine. _

_ But that was before she found the thumb drive in the glovebox. _

Rey realized how stupid she’d been to ignore all the signs. She slid out of the booth. “Thank you for the food. I need to go.”

“Rey, wait!” Ben protested, but he stood up too quickly and banged his thighs against the table. While he struggled she slid out of the restaurant and flipped up her hood. She had to disappear again. She had to get to the _ Falcon _ . She had been stupid to waste all this time, to have not seen this coming. She had ignored the signs. She had to get _ out! _And warn Maz and Poe. 

Ben Solo didn’t know when to quit.

“Rey Niima! Freeze!” He roared in his Cop Voice and Rey whirled on him. She almost expected to see a gun pointed at her. When she didn’t see any weapon she let herself snap, “Stop it! Just _ stop _ , before you get yourself _ killed! _”

“Killed,” Ben said flatly. He was barely winded. His wallet dangled from his hand, so Rey guessed he had thrown some cash at the hostess. She felt a pang of something like surprise to realize he really had paid after all. She looked at this man who had helped her, tipped her, and fed her information and food. He was an ex-soldier who made friends with a child, a cop. He hadn’t made any sexual overtures to her, despite what she did for a living. He was a good person, Rey realized. A good man.

He was going to get himself killed. Rey took a breath. “Look,” she said more calmly, “You need to stop. Now. They know you arrested Plutt. They may have already checked you out. You need to act like none of this ever happened.”

Ben looked down at her. “I can’t do that. Tell me everything.” He was pleading. Rey didn’t think he was the type to beg, but he was now. 

Rey shook her head. “I can’t. But if you really want to help me, you’ll take me home. I need to get to my car. I need to leave. Tonight.”

Ben opened his mouth before noticing something behind Rey. Too quickly, he tackled her to the hard ground, and gunshots were ringing in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment telling me what you think!


	6. Shaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey struggles to trust Ben Solo as her past comes back to haunt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to to make something, be creative, with everything that's going on right now. RIP to Chadwick Boseman.

Rey didn’t even have time to scream. Her head slammed against the concrete and Ben’s body pressed her too tightly, too heavy, but she wasn’t shot. Wasn’t dead. She watched as Ben pushed up on one arm above her and reached behind his back with the other. Rey clapped her hands over her ears once Ben returned fire. She could still hear the _bangs _echoing in her brain and then tires were squealing. Ben lurched to his feet, and fired a few more shots. 

Rey rolled to her belly and felt a numb clarity wash over her.  _ They were probably here for me,  _ she thought distantly. Maybe the Empire had finally gotten ahold of the thumb drive and didn’t need her alive anymore. What scared her more was that she couldn’t really  _ feel  _ the fear. She was numb. Cold. 

_ Shouldn’t someone have come outside by now?  _ There was no one emerging from the buildings. They were alone. 

Rey was alone. She started shaking there on that cold ground, head pounding, ass sore, but the insistent voice inside her that told her to  _ survive  _ drove Rey to roll to her knees and cautiously approached Ben Solo. Her mouth opened. “I told you so.” A hysterical laugh itched to be let loose from her throat, but she held it there while Ben looked at her. Really  _ looked.  _ Rey had never felt more exposed, not even on stage or while under a client.  _ Nobody knows me,  _ she would tell herself through all the things she had seen and done. But Ben Solo was obviously getting close to it, and it scared her. 

He reached out and gently grasped her shoulders. “Get in the car. And tell me everything.”

Rey called Maz on the way to wherever it was Ben Solo thought was safe. It was past 3 am but the old veteran was still awake. Maz said the men had left as soon as the cruiser arrived, and that Rey’s things were still secure. Rey felt a weight lift off her chest.  _ Poe and Maz were safe.  _ Finn also texted her back, and that he was home, and that Hux was gone. 

Rey hoped that the Empire wasn’t going to target Hux, but doubted it. He was too useful to kill, and he also hadn’t said anything to Ben that she knew of.

Maz was packing Rey’s things, and Poe was going to drop it off to them when he got off his shift at 8 am. Rey told Maz to hunker down after that, and to pass the message onto Poe. Rey felt horrible to have put her friends in danger, but with all Rey had done to cover her tracks, could she be blamed? What else could she have possibly done to be free of Cassian’s ghost and Plutt’s shadow with her limited resources? 

Rey tried to be the kind of friend who gave more than she took, and it was fast becoming obvious that she was not. It hurt to think that Rey was using her friends, but Maz brushed her off.  _ “Nonsense, girl. You have done so much for us.” _

Rey scoffed. “You may want to delete your contact history with me, Maz. This may be the last time you hear from me.” Tears gripped her throat, and she felt Ben’s eyes on her. Thankfully he didn’t say anything, but neither did Maz for a long while. Rey just sat there and listened to her friend’s breathing on the other side of the phone, and Maz seemed to be doing the same.

“ _ My dear _ ,” Maz finally rasped, “y _ ou will endure this. You are strong. Do what your heart tells you. _ ”

“Have a heart attack?”

_ “No. That would be my job, child.” _

Rey giggled despite herself, but she really wanted to say,  _ I’m scared.  _ She wanted to tell Maz, to put it out into the air to finally face and conquer, but the words wouldn’t emerge, and what was the use of them anyways? Maz knew that Rey was smart enough to be scared. And this fear was one that had haunted her for years; there was no way to make it go away. So Rey said her goodbye and hung up the phone. She ignored Ben’s rapt attention, even as he never took his eyes off the road.

That next morning Rey’s eyelids stuck together when she tried to open them. She reached up to rub the crust away before wincing at the late morning light shining through the curtains. At first she thought it may have been her little suite at Takodana, but the smell was alien and the curtains here were bland yellow and not the deep green of her home. Rey had always loved the color green. Green was life. Green was money. Money meant survival.

The events from the night before rushed back to her, and all she wanted was to curl back up and sleep forever away. Or at least until she had to pee... Which happened to be right then. 

With a cursory glance around her Rey could see she was alone, and she tottered on sore feet to the bathroom. Closed the door. 

She buried her face in her hands and shivered on the cold seat. How had she gotten here? Ben had asked her the same question, sitting across from her on the other bed in the room. Rey could barely look at the man who she had marked for death all because of her greed.

Greed to have a better education, greed for a paycheck, greed for more money. 

_ Greedy, greedy, greedy Rey. _

She told him the first half of the story: how she had come to the U.S. at 17 years old with her student visa and nice grant in her pocket. She told Ben about her dreams to become an engineer, and how her repair skills first caught Plutt’s attention. How she had been drawn deeper and deeper into Plutt’s more illicit dealings without realizing until it was too late, and running to Coruscant. 

Ben took all this in, and barely interrupted except to give her a glass of water. It was a long time before Rey finally arrived to speaking about Cassian Andor and his message that Rey had half unintentionally followed. She had never uttered this story aloud, not to Poe or even Maz. The story dragged across her tongue like a nail on a rusted wall, ticking away syllables until they shimmered in the night.

Ben physically recoiled at the names, though. “Cassian? Are you sure that was his name? And Jyn Erso?” 

“Yes,” Rey was swaying where she sat. It was nearly 5am, and she was completely exhausted. Ben rubbed his long face, and Rey decided she quite liked it. It had character. Maybe it just was the exhaustion talking, though. 

“I haven’t heard those names in a long time...”

“You knew them?”

“My mother did.” 

They said nothing more after that, and Rey kicked off her shoes. Ben, a gentleman in almost every way, took the hint, stood, and left to give her privacy. She wondered if he would stay awake all night keeping watch, or slip into the bed across from hers. She worried briefly that he might try to crawl into  _ her  _ bed, but fear was overruled by exhaustion, and her eyes slid closed. She didn’t remember getting under the covers, though. 

Now, in the late morning light Rey could see no sign of Ben as she emerged from the bathroom. She held her breath, straining for a hint of his return, and deep down she wondered if Officer Solo had trapped her. Lured her into a false sense of security, isolating her from her friends, and coaxing incriminating evidence from her with those soft brown eyes, then locking her in to await either Plutt or the authorities. Even then she wasn’t sure what was worse, right then; clean cops or the crooked ones. 

She strained her ears in the silence for any hint of approach, and quietly crept to her purse, which  _ looked _ untouched from where she set it down just hours before, but she didn’t trust anything until her pocket knife was in her palm. Everything else inside her purse was present and accounted for, but Rey didn’t allow herself to feel safe yet. Solo could just be playing a longer game; a ploy to make her feel even more safe, reveal more. 

She tiptoed toward the door and waited. Rey had waited 12 years for her family to come for her, she could wait for Solo a few moments more. 

Finally she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She recognized the heavy  _ thud _ of Solo’s feet, assertive stomps that nevertheless felt as though he were still unused to his size and the impact it had on the world. His largeness was intimidating, but Luke had taught her just how to deal with men bigger and stronger than her. She pressed herself against the wall, hoping Solo wouldn’t slam the door open. Her heart thrummed in her ears and she  _ waited. _

Solo unlocked the door with a  _ beep  _ of the keycard and he was stepping over the threshold, a mass of black in his hoodie, moving quickly. His wide hand curved around the door to push it closed more quickly and Rey acted.

Her foot slammed against the bottom of the door, grasping Ben’s hand as it lost its grip and throwing herself  _ down  _ and twisting. She hooked her foot around his knee, and Ben Solo fell like a ton of bricks into the room. Rey scrambled to get her feet around his neck, cognisant of Ben’s military and police training. But those branches were trained to kill, not to outsmart their opponents. She wrenched his arm up and back, but he was so strong that he was already resisting, but her feet finally locked around his neck and with a press of them against his windpipe, he jerked, and she knew he was pinned. 

“What are you planning?!” Rey hissed, “Why are you doing this?!” Ben immediately stopped struggling at the sound of her voice, and with his lack of tension Rey’s grip was suddenly too loose on him. His other hand slid between her ankle and his neck, grasping her. Rey kicked out to dislodge him, but lost grip of his second arm, and Ben rolled, pulling her  _ down _ so Rey slid across the carpet. She screamed, hoarse and short, and flicked her knife open. Ben’s hand slammed down next to her head and she stopped breathing.

Ben hovered above her, blocking the light from the yellow curtains. She was swallowed in his shadow. Her knife trembled. She was beat. Ben’s face was cut with shadows. His eyes were red and a little bit of sweat beaded his brow. She could feel herself shaking as she took him in, and just as he had seemed to peel her layers back last night, she could see through his.

She could see his earnestness, and no small amount of desperation. “ _ You _ ,” she whispered, “you think you can save me.” Ben flinched, his dark waves shaking above her. “I can,” he rasped, and it shook her, how bad he wanted too, and how much she wished he wouldn’t try. She wanted him far away from this.

“Nobody can,” she shook her head. Her voice stuck. Ben finally broke his eyes from her and sat back, still partially straddling her legs. Rey shakily pulled herself back up and away from him. Scared to touch. Scared to feel. 

Silence hung hard and heavy between them, but Ben finally stood and offered his hand. “They already know what I look like with you,” he murmured. “I worked for the police. They know me. I’m marked anyways.” 

Rey’s eyes flicked between his hand and face. Why did he care so much? Why? Was it because she was young and attractive? Because he wanted to play hero to the damsel? Did he want money?

She was spared from answering him because Poe’s ringtone went off from her pocket, and Ben dropped his hand. She pretended not to see him rub his face as he turned away to give her privacy. 

She cleared her throat before answering. “Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACAB except for Ben.  
I'm gonna stop here because it's literally all I have left in at the moment, but I hope you guys liked the update!

**Author's Note:**

> All hate comments will be deleted; I will not tolerate whoriphobia. However, I encourage constructive conversations and comments.
> 
> I hope you all liked this! I'm not entirely sure where I'll be going with this, so hold on with me, alright?


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